


Selling Truth

by Felinafullstop



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, Detective, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felinafullstop/pseuds/Felinafullstop
Summary: Zaeed Massani is a federal investigator. He's on his last job before he can retire, and finding out what's going on at Solstice Shoes Online. A multi million dollar shoe company. With aggression directed at him from its vice president Jacob Taylor, he finds the job may be a task. He's sure he can figure out the reason for the financial losses, but the stakes double when Taylor is found Dead.





	1. Undercover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThreeWhiskeyLunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/gifts).



> “My lying is a second skin by now, so easy to forget it's there, so I don't always remember that lying is actually an art, and those who aren't meticulous about it are easily exposed.”  
> ― Jillian Cantor, Margot

            Zaeed Massani’s darting between people as he rushes, bag clutched to his chest, to make a very important meeting.  He’s late, he knows it, and they know it. He pauses next to the large wooden meeting room door. Scrambling a hand up to run through his silver hair, before straightening his tie, and grabbing the door handle to pull it open.

            “Zaeed.” Jacob Taylor the vice president of Solstice Shoes Online stood at the Smart Board holding a pen. “Nice of you to join us. You know the meeting started five minutes ago.” He checks his watch for emphasis but turns back to the board and begins to write figures. Zaeed hates this man, knows in another situation, they’d never speak to one another. The ego that floods off him, it's bad enough that, Zaeed swears one could smell it.

            Zaeed makes no excuse and nods as all the other faces at the table look directly at him. Taking his seat at the far end of the table. He glances around the room, straightening his glasses as he pulls his tablet out of his bag. “So we’ve looked into A/B testing.” Taylor continues drawing a line between two segments of what he can only conclude are customers. “We’re not seeing the evidence we were after, we do not know why our target demographic is shopping elsewhere.” He shrugs looking around the table at all the department heads. “We have all this reporting we need solid answers. None of this talk of ‘Subjective opinion’ I need ‘objective facts’ and I need them yesterday.” He motions around the room. “Why are we not using this data to find better ways to make sales and increase customer conversions. We are all just staring at it and hoping it’ll go away.”

            Zaeed sighs; these are his statistics they’re going over, well not his, the ones the FEDs gave him to present. “Any reason for this lack of action? For the deplete in revenue? From the looks of it, our buying habits haven’t changed, and the overhead hasn’t moved much over a percentage point.” The president, Steven Hackett, speaks his chair rolling around to face the members at the table and not the statistics on the board.  Zaeed watches as this man’s eyes land on him longer than he feels comfortable with.

            “We’re not sure.” Miranda, head of Marketing, says. “We can’t tell if it’s our entire demographic, not shopping, or if perhaps our offerings just aren’t what they want. We thought new products would encourage new customers to buy and old customers to come back. That has to come from the company buyers though not us.” She shook her head. “We’re also A/B testing different emails with graphic designers, giving them some freedom with their own marketing creatives, and see if that does something.”

            “Massani what do you think?” Hackett asks. “You ran these numbers, does this tell you anything about the company? I know you haven’t been here long, but I’d like your opinion.”

            Zaeed looks up and blinks. “The A/B testing has been less than forthcoming with information. That could be because we are-“

            “We already went over that Mr. Massani,” Taylor says moving around the table. Zaeed feels dread in his gut and the red in his face at being interrupted may be mistaken for fear, but it isn’t.

            Zaeed’s fingers dig into his own leg and he tries to keep his composure. “I was trying to say that-“  

            “You ran these numbers.” Taylor interrupts again pointing to the smart board. He moves over grabbing the red digital pen and circles the numbers.  “You have to know what they mean.”  To emphasize his point he punctuates the board enough to make a loud sound and a red dot is squarely in the margins.

            “He might if you’d give him the opportunity to speak Jacob,” Hackett says from his chair at the end of the table.  “Mr. Massani Continue”

            Zaeed adjusts his glasses and nods. “I am a statistician. You brought me in to do the reporting of the numbers, while I can’t make absolute-“

            “And there you go…no answers.” Jacob turns coming around the table about ready to open his mouth and say something else. Zaeed is daring the man in his mind to try it, to come that much closer so he can punch him in the face. It’s crossing his mind, but he knows it’ll blow his cover.

            “Taylor.” Hackett’s voice is even. “Outside.” Zaeed lets out a breath, he didn’t realize he’d been holding and looks at Hackett in shock. Hackett hadn’t even needed to raise his voice. He just said ‘Taylor, outside.’

            Jacob freezes meeting Hackett’s gaze but doesn’t speak. He exits the meeting room and silence falls over those gathered. “Zaeed, I would like to apologize for Mr. Taylors behavior.” He nods a hand coming up to coax. “Continue.”

            Zaeed swallows, and he can feel his Adams apple bob as he speaks. “I can’t give absolute answers, but based on bounce rate, over click rate, and unique users…” he’s doing math in his head and scrawling some equations on his tablet with his finger. “I may know how to find them. Might take me some time.”

            “How so?” Hackett asks.

            “I run numbers and pull data for the last five years or so.” He says, “Might bloody well give us a better idea of what’s happening here.” He explains, “We can’t think that it’s the customer’s fault, perhaps we are not evolving like we should as a company. I think Miss Lawson is perhaps onto something about stale products.”

            Miranda smiles and nods thanks at being acknowledged, but Jane Shepard from Accounting turns to face him now. “You think our sales decline is an internal problem?”

            “We’re human beings, statistically we all get set in our ways. It only takes 21 days.” He nods. “So let’s see what we are doing consistently over these five years, and if this consistency whatever it is, is causing these fall offs in revenue then we look to do something else. It’s bloody math. Something we sold five years ago that we couldn’t keep on the shelves may be a dime a dozen now.” He shakes his head. “Look at Tickle-me-Elmo.” He points out. “Some were on marketplaces for over six hundred dollars.” He explains. “Today, you can pick one up for twenty bucks.”  He hopes that some of his bullshit is going to grow wings and fly.

             Samara who sits at the far end of the table is the corporate buyer and she nods seeming to understand what the man is saying. “Sounds fair enough. Do you have suggestions?”

            “I’ll need to speak with the marketing teams, and the head graphic designer,” He reaches up adjusting his glasses. “And you Miss Samara if we could at some point arrange a meeting.”

            “Miranda, Samara, make it happen.” Hackett stands. “I want an update in two weeks.” He turns to address the table again. Zaeed notes how he shifts his weight to his left leg and waits for everyone to stand and file out.  Zaeed thinks for a moment. _Thank fucking God it’s Friday._

            Zaeed has his head down fumbling with his bag to shove his tablet inside. “Mr. Massani.” He pauses looking up at Hackett, a hand coming up to push his glasses back up on his nose. “A word.”

            “Yeah,” He nods “Sure.” He stands grabbing up his bag up off the floor and lifting it over his shoulder. He keeps his hands one over the other on the strap of his bag as if to hold a baseball bat.

            The managers file out one by one, and soon he’s left standing there. Steven Hackett the President of Solstice shoes turns to face him. “I’ll speak to Taylor. His behavior was irresponsible.”

            “It’s fine.” Zaeed hedges if only to get out of this room. Why can they just say ‘Nice meeting’ and be done with it. He hates just standing here being scrutinized.

            “No,” Hackett’s words stop him dead. “It’s not.” He said softly. “He’s a good businessman but he’s ruthless, and he takes that ruthless sales approach with people who should be on his side. He’s not good in the team building division.” Hackett sounds like this isn’t the first time. “You’ll be working with me directly on this, we’re going to get to the bottom of these Revenue drops.” He turns smiling. “Get with Traynor in accounting and see if you can pull up cost averages as well. We’ll look at our margins, and see what’s going on.”

            Zaeed reaches up pulling off his glasses. “You are talking an internal audit, sir.” He says. “Of the entire operation.”

            Hackett faces him now and nods. “Yes.” He says. “One you and I are going to perform.” He smiles now and why does that make Zaeed uncomfortable? “And it’s Steven please.”

            Zaeed has a sudden need to run but doesn’t. He can mask a lot behind that silver hair and those glasses. “Sure…Steven, of course.”

            “You’re from London? Is that the accent I’m hearing?” Hackett asks, and Zaeed is sidelined by the question.

            Zaeed’s voice goes flat only a moment. “Y-Yes.” He nods, head bobbing up and down more than it should. “Eastern London.” He corrects reaching up to adjust his tie. He’s ready to answer stupid questions about the queen, most people ask, and he has all the typical answers ready: Seen her once, not up close, no idea, the house is huge.

            “Noted. I’ll talk to you first thing Monday morning Mr. Massani.”  And that’s it, and Zaeed is pretty sure he’s relieved that that’s all there is to this. He was fearing the worst.

            “Sure, and Thanks.” He nods his head, absently as his eyes find the door and grabs the handle.

            “Send Taylor inside please.” He turns walking up to the glass windows that look out over the city.

            Leaving the room Zaeed motioned to the door by tossing his thumb over his shoulder. “Mr. Hackett would like to speak to you.”

            Jacob moves past him shoving him with his shoulder and moves into the conference room. “Steven, what was that?” Is all Zaeed hears before the door seals and silence lingers around him.

            The elevator is blessedly empty. He slumps against the back and shakes his head. Taylor was going to see to it he was fired he was sure. Zaeed couldn’t be fired, he needed to be here, he had an investigation to finish. He didn’t put it past the man to see through him completely, to know he wasn’t on the up and up. Shaking his head he pushed up and straightened his tie. This was almost nerve-racking.

            The elevator door opened and he walked down the hallway on the marketing floor towards his small office in the rear of IT.  He shared the space with the principal systems administrator, Tali Zora. She was also a member of the Federal team investigating.

            Tali was near the coffee maker in the small kitchenette; her bright purple hair a contrast to her fair skin and pale eyes. She wore a purple button-down shirt and knit vest, pencil skirt and stockings with seams. She wore a version of this same outfit every day, he wondered if she only had one suit at all.

            “Zee!” She waved off the other woman from sales and came to the IT door. “Let me get that for you.” She said politely backing up to the door with her rear, and keeping it open. Her phone in one hand and her coffee in the other Tali was the picture postcard of an extrovert, into everything she could get her hands on.

            Zaeed smiled as he moved through the open door. “Thanks, Tali girl.” He murmured as he passed her moving into their office.  

            Zaeed moved to his corner desk and dropped into his chair. “So.” She sat on the edge of his desk. “How’d it go?”

            “I’m working Directly with Hackett starting Monday.” Zaeed let that sentence sit in the air and sighed. “Hackett.” He said again with a swallow. “Goddamned…” he couldn’t think to finish.

            “No way.” She shook her head. “What’s happening?”

            “There’s been a fall-off in revenue steep and sudden like. I’ve been asked to help conduct an internal audit.” He shook his head, he was a federal informant, not an auditor.

            Tali looked both ways and cleared her throat. “Isn’t that what we’re here for?” She asked in a whisper.

            Zaeed shook his head at her. “Yeah, that’s what we’re here for.” He answered honestly. “Goddamn bloody nightmare.”

            Tali pat his arm. “You’ll get to the bottom of it. Make sure you tell Kasumi. She’ll want to know.” She motions to his shirt pocket with her hand and he blinks looking down. He grabs the glasses out and opens them sliding them on his face. They are uncomfortable and he hates them, but a cover is a cover.


	2. Crosslines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act."  
> — George Orwell

            He ends up at some point in the evening heading home after a quick stop at the Chinese place for some Sesame Chicken. Once actually home he’s on a secured call and making sure everything is going according to plan. He goes over the meeting three times and plays from the recording device that had been in his briefcase.

            “Massani?” Kasumi Goto asks on the phone. “Did you hear me?”

            Zaeed shifts up in his chair. “Yeah, I heard you.” He shakes his head poking at his rice with his chopsticks.

            “Well just, make sure you get the numbers to me, I’ll get them run and get the info to you ASAP, we want you to look like you know EXACTLY what you’re doing.”

            “You should be doing this.” He says gently with a soft sigh. He grabs up another bite and talks between chews. “You and Tali could have done this just as well without me mucking up the goddamn operation. You two can do almost bloody well anything and get away with it.” He admits and swallows down his food.

            “No way.” She chuckles. “You owe me, besides one more and you can retire. Just keep thinking about that government pension you’ve got coming to you.” She laughs, because well, they both know their pensions are at risk, congress being what it is these days.

            “Yeah, yeah.” He sighs and hangs up the phone. Taking the offending glasses off he tosses them on the table before him and grabs his beer. “Fucking hell.” He utters. He hates this assignment, he’s supposed to be getting near Taylor, not Hackett. Taylor is the one they suspect is siphoning money from the company.

            He pulls his laptop forward and sets his beer down and types in the name: Steven Hackett. He starts digging in, research, that’s what he says. It’s all research. Why did the man pick him? He could have asked for anyone’s help.

            Two A.M. Arrives and four beers later he’s shaking his head. Hackett lives in the building right beside his own. He lives in the penthouse on the top floor. Damn. He has to avoid being seen. He turns to the window and pulls back the curtain; he can see the penthouse from here lights are on and there’s a body walking around. He’s too far away to tell if it’s Hackett even if he had binoculars; just a black blob moving behind curtains in the lit windows.

            Zaeed lets the curtain of his window fall as he stands, picking up all the bottles taking them to the trashcan in his kitchen. Shutting off lights as he goes he makes his way to his bedroom. Jessie, an obnoxious Persian cat with one eye looks up at him expectantly. Her flat little face speaking of demanded pets without a sound. Her small legs moving up and down as she kneads into the soft blanket he keeps at the end of the bed.

            Zaeed’s hand trails over her head and down her back. “Hey love.” He says affectionately as she stands on the edge of the bed rubbing on his hip. “Yeah I know, I hate doing work too, would be nice if I could just lay around and be fat all day.” He turns away from her pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it into a nearby basket that’s already overflowing with dirty laundry.

            Jessie’s fluffy tail wiggles as she moves up toward the pillows. “Hey you, not my pillow.” He warns. She doesn’t seem to hear or care finding the spot she wants on his memory foam pillow. “Typical woman, taking what you want without a word.” He has to smile; she’s the only girl he truly loves. She’s the only one he’d let take what she wanted without a word.

            Shuffling into the bathroom he brushes his teeth and gets ready to sleep in. He’s relieved tomorrow is Saturday. He needs the mental break.

           

            The ringing of the phone is loud in his ears. “Damn.” Zaeed rolls over practically on Jessie. “Move love.” He grabs up his phone reaching over her, and turns to look at the caller ID: Solstice. He braces himself licking his lip and flips the phone open. “This is Zaeed.” He says softly pushing Jessie down to the bottom of the bed.

            “Still asleep?” Hackett he sounds amused by the prospect, stupid morning people.

“No sir, bright eyed and bushy tailed.” What a lie, when did he start lying when he didn’t need to? He shifts up out of bed legs rolling over the edge. Jessie, disturbed for a second time, jumps down angered making her way to the kitchen to her bowl. Like always completely disenfranchised with him when he’s on the phone.

“Good to hear. Good to hear.” Hackett sounds like he’s thinking too hard, like his focus isn’t on this call. Zaeed’s heart is pounding out of control, why is his heart pounding so hard? “I have a request.” This sets more fear in than Zaeed is ready to admit.

Zaeed shifts again tucking the phone under his ear as he pulls his pants on over his boxers, one leg at a time. “Sure.” He says hoping it encourages Hackett to get down to it.

            “I want to talk to you today, come by the office I want to discuss a few things with you when no one is here. Go over our game plan. I can’t wait until Monday. I need to start digging now.” He waits a moment Hackett sounds much more on his game now, less distracted. “And I need you onboard.” Zaeed looks at the clock and it’s already 10:30 in the fucking morning.

            “Yes sir.” He nods reaching for his shirt “I’m on my way.”

            “Good, see you in a bit.” Hackett hangs up.

            “Goddamn…” Zaeed stands to turn for his shirt and goes to his closet for a tie. He grabs his other phone in passing on the way to the bathroom and speed dials Kasumi.

 

            “It’s going to be fine,” Kasumi assures on the other end of the line. “Just record everything that’s going on. Take as many notes as you can, use your tablet to scan the documents you can without getting noticed. If you can plant a bug, do so.”

            “I will.” Zaeed fumbles holding his briefcase and tying his tie. Speaking to the mic on the headset he’s wearing. “This seems like such goddamn a trap it isn’t even fucking amusing.” He mutters. “That’s exactly what this is: a goddamn inconvenient terrible trap.”

            “Had somewhere to be?” Kasumi asks. He knows she’s playing; she’d love him to admit he has a date, but he never does. He thinks of something better and speaks without a filter.

            “Yeah was going to throw Jessie a goddamn birthday. Little hats and all. Like a tiny little teatime just for her.” He mutters and then grabs the glasses out of his pocket and puts them on his face.

            “That’s a way better way to spend your Saturday than being a corporate snitch,” Kasumi says laughing in a cheerful way. “Call me once you’re out of the hot seat. Save me some tea.”

            “Yeah, yeah.” Zaeed clips the phone shut and pulls the headset earpiece out of his ear. “Goddamned insufferable no good-.” He shakes his head letting the string of expletives die as he grabbed the handle of the door and opened it moving inside to the elevator.

           

             Steven Hackett’s office is one of only two on the top floor. He and Taylor There are two desks as he exits the elevator, for their assistants. Hacket’s assistant is gone, but an overly chipper red head is sitting in front of Taylor’s office. “He’s waiting for you, told me to tell you to come on in.” She says.  He doesn’t like the look of her, she’s too charming, too forthcoming, and she’s looking him over like she’s trying to see weather he’d bite or not.

            Zaeed nods gently and reads her name plate as he walks by ‘Kelly Chambers’ he makes a note on his phone, attempting to look like he’s texting. Putting his phone in his pocket he knocks twice and opens the door.

            Hackett smiles as he looks up from a seat on a sofa on the far side of his office. The coffee table is littered with files, and he’s got a laptop running with spreadsheets, and a cup of coffee that Zaeed suspects has gone cold.

            “Thanks for coming.” He motions to the chair beside him, as he stands moving toward the door. Pulling it back he smiles. “Kelly, be a dear will you, and go down to the first floor and get us two coffees please?”

            “From the café sir?” She asks.

            “Yes, I’d like mine black.” He turns to Zaeed. “How do you like yours?”

            Zaeed nods. “Same.” He says and sets his briefcase to his left on the floor beside the chair. While Hackett is busy Zaeed lowers his hand to the lower edge of the chair he’s in and sets a bug. Depressing its activator switch he pulls his hand back to his lap and starts to fiddle with the smart watch Tali gave him.  Who needs text messages on a wrist, he thinks.

            “Those are pretty new,” Hackett says observing the watch. “How do you like yours so far?” He sits down, though closer to the one Zaeed is sitting in. “I considered getting one.”

            “I haven’t had much time to fuss with it.” Zaeed says, and again that’s the truth. No need to hide it. “Tali convinced me.”

            “The girl from your office? The new girl who’s in charge of our network?”

            “That’s her.” He nods.  Hackett leans closer extending both hands.

            “May I?” He asks. Zaeed doesn’t think to take the watch off, instead, he shifts his wrist into Hackett’s arms.

            “Brand new.” He observes. “Barely a scratch on it.” He takes a hair off of it and moves it off rubbing his fingers together to be free of it.

            “Sorry bout that….cat.” He says.

            “Oh?” Hackett releases his hand and the tension bleeds from Zaeed, and it’s visible. “What’s its name?”

            Zaeed laughs a bit now pulling out his phone to swipe the screen open. “Ah-“ he fiddles until he finds his camera roll, and then punches a picture with his finger bringing it up. Turning the screen to the other man he speaks. “Jessie.” He smiles. “Found her at some old pet store.”

            “Special one?” Hackett asks grabbing a file off of  the table leaning back.

            “Not really.” He says shaking his head. “She was just the last one, smallish little thing, one eye. No one wanted her.” He shrugs. “I got tired of seeing her in that window.”

            “You’re a sucker.” Hackett smiled at him. “I have a fish for just that reason.”

            Zaeed blinks. “A fish?”         

            Hackett points behind him to a small glass bow that isn’t very big and the little blue beta is swimming around. “I’m not creative I just call it fish.” He smirks. “Hello, fish.” He says in an example. “Goodnight fish.” He laughs. “Terrible thing he was the last one in this silly little bowl on a shelf. No other fish in the whole place.” He shrugs. “He adds movement…I like that. I know it’s your day off.” Hackett is suddenly switching gears as Zaeed puts his phone back in his pocket.

            “It’s okay.”

            “No plans?” Hackett asks. “I’m not inconveniencing a wife or girlfriend?”

            Zaeed has to laugh at that. “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m stag.” He insists.

            “Okay.” Hackett nods. “Just didn’t need a significant other upset and breaking down doors.”

            Zaeed smiles. “Won’t happen.” He nods. “What’s going on?”

            Hackett stood and moved behind his seat to the large glass window that looked out of his office over the city. "I need your help." He said calmly his voice now grave with seriousness. "Someone is embezzling from my company." He says with concern hands balled into fists but soon relaxes again. "I think the Feds may be onto us." He shakes his head almost in despair. "I want to find out who it is and expose them." Yeah, the Feds we're onto them, that was why Zaeed was here in the first place.

           “How do you intend to do that Sir?” Zaeed asked.

           “I plan to look through everything.” He turned to his desk, and Zaeed turned his eyes now too. “I’ve sent for financial records for this month.” He explained. “That’s those boxes on my desk.” He sighed and rolled his head to the side. “I’ll be getting this month last years as well, I want to see what we are paying for now that we weren’t paying for them.”

            Zaeed nods. “That’s a good place to start. Audit month to month against the previous year, and find your overhead.” It has merit.

           “Will you help?” Hackett asked.

            “Sir I’m an employee, hourly at that.” Zaeed shifted up to stand.  “It’s my job to help with whatever you need.”

            “I am not asking you as my employee.” Hackett swallowed hard. “I need someone I can trust. I can’t trust anyone right now.”

            Zaeed looked him up and down. Something wasn’t right, his gut told him that much. “And why would you take a chance on me?” Zaeed asked.

            Hackett reached forward, and Zaeed leaned back not wanting to be touched. He felt like a cornered animal. “Just allow me-” Hackett said coming up to his shirt collar and pulling it down. “Blue suns.” He said of the mark. “I thought that’s what I had seen.”

            Zaeed broke out of his hold. “Yeah, was a long time ago,” Zaeed said shifting to pull his collar up.

           Hackett shifted his own arm and started to roll up his sleeve. On the forearm of his left arm was the same tattoo. “I hope I can trust you. I want to trust you.” Zaeed doesn’t speak but looks up meeting the other man’s eyes. “I need someone I can rely on. Can I rely on you?”

           Zaeed has to think about that for a moment before he nods. “Yes sir.”  Zaeed pushed the fake glasses up on his eyes. "Why do you think the feds know anything?" He asked. Hackett turned.

          "My ex-husband said something to me that made me curious." He admits turning to the glass, his back to Zaeed. Zaeed had to stop himself, Hackett was gay? That wasn’t in his profile, he let the comment slide and snapped his head up as the man continued. "He works for the IRS and there were whisperings." Zaeed can't help but note how furious the man is. "I have to do something." He turns "Anything to figure out what is going on, and if that means I get my hands down and dirty than so be it." He nods. "I don't want Taylor to know, Lawson and Shepard, stay out of this too."

           Zaeed shakes his head. "Shepard's the accountant she calls all the financial shots." He motions to the window. "She'll know what we are doing." Hackett nodded.

          "That's why I'm sending her to a financial conference to get her out of the building for a week." He sighs. "We are going to figure this out." He turns meeting Zaeeds gaze. "You and Me." he shakes his head. "No one else.”

Zaeed nods. “Of course sir.”

           “You can’t go in there!” Kelly is yelling from the hallway. “Sir!” She tries to protest but the officers are through the door before Zaeed can react.

           “Mr. Steven Hackett?” The tall man in the center asks.

           “I’m Hackett.” The Man turns stepping past Zaeed. “Kelly it’s fine.” He dismisses her back to the hallway.

           “We’d like to ask you a few questions.” He says. “My name is Detective Vakarian, this is my partner Detective Urdnot but we just call him Grunt.” The other man didn’t say much, looked frustrated just to be here.

           “What can I do for you Detective Vakarian?” Hackett folded his arms over his chest.

           “I have a few questions about…” He pulled his phone out. “A Jacob Taylor.”

           “Is he in some kind of trouble?” Hackett asked folding his arms over his chest. “He’s the Vice president here.”

            The Detective looked back at Grunt who seemed to be more interested in what could possibly be in a small decorative vase. “Mr. Hackett, Jacob Taylor is Dead.”


End file.
